Thursday, March 26, 2015

The Cosmos Will Never Be The Same, Earthling--Writing Humorous Sexy Sci-Fi by Lorain O'Neil

When
it comes to humorous romantic sci-fi scenes, I think they’re at their best when
there’s a hunky alien H and a feisty human h. With the inherent contrast, it’s
always fun to show the alien’s flummoxed shock at regular ol’ human behavior
and language. In my novel Firecrystal
Deep I have a scene where human Alexandra sneaks off to a distant
moon filled with dangerous Spidur creatures. There, Alex accidentally initiates
communication back to her hunky alien H, Suzerain Zackarn, ruler of half the
galaxy (the Demesdom). Needless to say, Zackarn is not too happy with his
little Earth human’s behavior, but Alexandra is having none of it:

The Spidur besieged them with a
piercing screech of frustrated rage and all three women were forced to thrust
their hands over their ears, the vibrations reverberating even through their
teeth. Pivoting, the Spidur scrabbled away disappearing into the far haze.
Alexandra lowered her hand, accidentally brushing her vest.

“ALEXANDRA, MY OWN!” they all heard.
And jumped.

“Uh oh,” Alex said.

“Tell him you got one!”

“Um, hi there Zackarn. You are not
gonna believe what just happened. I—”

“Are you hurt? I can see your
position, we will get to you—”

“I’m fine, nuked my first Spidur.
Blam-o-lah!”

“Little Adrus,”
they heard the forced icey-calm coldness in the Suzerain’s voice, “are you
listening to me? There is an emergency retrieval signal on the vest you must be
wearing. You are to press it. Now.”

“No I don’t think so, Zackarn.
Chicks before dicks!”

“ALEXANDRA! When I’m done with you there won’t be enough
BALM in the Demesdom if you don’t—”

“Well shizzle my fizzle jumbodick,
you gonna threaten me? How’dja like waking up with a full frontal wedgie some
morning, eh? I could permagoose your junk
in the trunk tight as a duck’s ass!”

“Alex, he’s the Suzerain,” Miri whispered urgently.

“I advise temperance, Adrus Alex,”
Brielle implored, “forthwith.”

“Oh doncha’ll get your tits in a
wringer, a little windage from King Butthole of Turd Castle doesn’t
frighten ME!”

“I am the SUZERAIN of the DEMESDOM!
And your MATE and I ORDER you to—”

“Yeah? Well I am the ALEXANDRA of
the ORLANDO SHOPPING MALL and you
can— Heh, why’dja do that?” she asked put out that Brielle had snaked out a
hand and quickly tapped her vest.

“I think it wise to postpone this
communication, Adrus Alex.”

***

Another thing I like about sci-fi
romance is that you can get creative with romantic settings. In my novel Alien Advantage, the H and the h have just hijacked a flying saucer in
order to escape the bad guys. And, well...

The
door slid open and both Caroline and I practically tiptoed to the entrance and
peeked out. Nothing but ocean. We were alone. We had escaped Little Island and
the serene joy and incredibleness of it erupted in us both. Bursting into
laughter, we were unable to speak from the relief of not only still being
alive, but alive and unwatched and undictated to. Heady stuff, which is why, I
suppose, we ended up as we did though it probably would’ve happened regardless,
the attraction between us being so strong. What can I say, the flesh is weak
and mine is right up there with the weakest.

A
vast improvement over “Stupid,” I thought. “No problem,” I said. I have always
had a slick way with words at deeply emotional moments like that.

“Whatta
you think they’re thinking right now?” she asked, almost giggling.

“Shit.
I think they’re thinking aw shit.”

“I
think they’re thinking a lot more than that.” She reached up and stroked the
side of my face. “I think they’re thinking ‘What are those two doing
right now?’”

“What
are we doing?” I asked, feeling the almost tangible sexuality emanating
from her, from her perfect brown skin, her pink fingertips. I found my hands
traveling over her.

“We’re
all wet,” I said, wanting to take her right then, that moment.

“We
should get out of these clothes.”

“To
dry them.”

“Definitely.”

I
looked around. The ship had a dank feel to it having been awash in seawater.
The afternoon though, was brilliant and warm, the tropical air soft and gentle.
“C’mon,” I said eagerly.

“Where?”
she asked as I led her through the ship’s open door to the outside.

From
all my “open it” trips to the warehouse I’d gotten a lot of good long looks at
the skin of that alien spacecraft. There were no ladders of any type affixed to
it, but there were indentations that would, with care, serve as a way to climb
up on top of it.

“Follow
me,” I grinned, and she did.

On
the roof we stared out at the vastness of the nothing all around us, so welcome
after the life of enclosure at Little Island. We stripped off our clothes and
lay them on the ship’s roof to dry. In that blazing sunshine I couldn’t help
but stare at Caroline’s exquisite nakedness as she stretched out luxuriously
under my wanton gaze. Caroline was not shy.

***

So, in the humorous romantic sci-fi
genre, intergalactic settings, alien alpha males and villian-creatures,
spaceships, outer space battles –all of it can be combined to make the story
not your typical contemporary romcom, but something (ahem) truly out of this
world! But that of course presents a whole different layer of writing
challenge.

In contemporary romance, settings must be enticing, descriptive,
interesting, but they are nevertheless what we all pretty much know. But in
humorous sci-fi romance, settings must be all of those things and… sci-fi! Which means settings in
humorous romantic sci-fi must come much more from the author’s own imagination.

Here’s another example from Firecrystal
Deep: Earth human Miri has been kidnapped by aliens and
told she’s the Adrus, their God. Miri’s reaction is to get “the hell outta
Dodge” by running away through a Palace garden. Now in a contemporary romance
that would be fountains, roses, cobblestones, right? Well not in a sci-fi...

Gliding silently down the stairs she alighted onto the lawn
and barreled toward the water.

“’Scuse me!” she bulldozed past
dumbfounded people caught unaware.

“Was that the—” she heard behind
her, a shockwave of puzzlement.

A large stand of milkweed-like
plants blocked her way, she plunged through them succeeding only in doing a
wide-eyed faceplant into one giant exploding pod. Instantly hands were on her,
pulling her up as she spat out a mouthful of pink gossamer seed puffs. Two
speechless men and one popeyed woman had her, the woman found her voice first.

“Adrus, Sacred and Hallowed—” she
trilled all aflutter.

“Sorry,” Miri pivoted away trampling
through a row of iridescent beige flowers the size of dinner plates that made
little shrieking noises as she trod on them. “Sorry, sorry,” she tossed back (I am talking to flowers) scooting down a
hill pell mell, mostly on her rump as a group of mammoth sized men in starched
black tunics watched her fanny-skimming exodus in perplexed astonishment.

“Is that the—” she heard a startled
unified grunt.

“Coming through, coming through,”
Miri heard herself beseech a grove of coniferous trees that appeared to regard
her intently, bending and showering her in sticky fuzzy catkins. She splashed
through a shallow reddish lagoon only to encounter a steep upward knoll covered
in (Oh shit) maybe sumac, dotted with
blue mushrooms.

Think of it as an organic stairmaster she urged herself clambering up the hill converging on both
the top and what looked and smelled like tangy yard bombs left by some very
large animals, until she landed squarely onto one and it gave a disgruntled hoot
and disappeared underground.

“Adrus! Adrus!” began ringing
throughout the garden, some calls she inanely thought arising from the ground
itself. Miri’s energy was ebbing as she at last charged headlong onto a pathway
paved in sparkling white crystals that led straight to the water. People
dotting the walkway leapt aside in incomprehension, flustered as the impromptu
bedraggled calamity that was now Miri streaked past gasping winded apologies at
them.

***

So
that’s really what makes a humorous sci-fi romance so specially different from
a standard romantic comedy –while it has to have the same allure, titillation,
fun and excitement, it must get it from a world created totally by the writer’s
own inventiveness.

Luckily
though, when it comes to unleashing a writer’s inventiveness there are few
subjects more fertile than a hunky space alien on the make.:)

About Me

Heather’s debut sci-fi romance novel, Once Upon a Time in Space, features the last living descendant of Christopher Columbus on a desperate quest to find a new world. Standing in his way is Raquel, the deadliest space pirate in the galaxy.